The Haunted
by wildstraydog
Summary: Three years ago, Blake Belladonna participated in a grave attack with the White Fang known as the Valentine's Day Massacre. She vowed never to kill innocent people again, distancing herself from the event and the organization by enrolling in Beacon academy. Blake thought the past was behind her, until she met Jaune Arc, a victim of the attack who lost his arm and leg.
1. Scars

The Haunted

By wildstraydog

Chapter One: Scars

 **Alright here is the first chapter of the retooled Victim, which is now under a different name to signify this. The first chapter is mostly the same, but I slowed down the pace and decided not to rush to Beacon until the next chapter so the flow is much better. Chapter two will start to show more differences, and by the end of chapter three the story will be completely different and more personal as originally envisioned.**

 **Hope you enjoy it.**

One harmless push of the button was it all took for Blake to regret every decision in her life. The unsuspecting red trigger was attached to a long chord that trailed down a high concrete staircase that led into the street. Hundreds of patrons celebrating Valentine's Day cheered and dance in the revelry, unaware of the chaos about to unfold. She was never aware of all the innocent lives in the street above, only informed that several prominent military figures from the Atlas military were going to attend, including a mercenary that was infamous for killing thousands of her kind.

Blake was still left out of the main preparations, only ordered to unravel the wire so the technicians could make the final preparations. She was informed of the plan by Adam Taurus, her longtime partner that a series of smoke bombs would explode from underneath them. The smoke would conceal their assassins movements as the soldiers and targets were taken out swiftly. How gravely wrong that was... the entire charade masked from her eyes until the horror of the White Fang's true intentions were revealed. She could still remember the grisly details—blood smothered across the black tar and concrete sidewalks. The entire operation was a lie from the beginning.

She was underground with a few soldiers from the White Fang in the sewers, the muddy water's pungent odor seeped throughout the endless tunnels, filling her nostrils with a musky dry scent reminiscent of rotten eggs. Blake hated the cool feeling on her exposed legs, the slosh of the brownish liquid unsettling, though the other men didn't mind. They trekked for hours in the early morning, mapping out the system for an exact route the parade would travel. Adam was missing for most of it, only sending vague texts onto her burner scroll. They both had grown detached in the recent months, due in part by her growing anger at the current White Fang leadership.

"How much longer do we have to stay down here?" One of the soldiers complained, flicking off a speck of discarded trash that hung from the barrel of his rifle. Blake checked her scroll to see it was still around five in the morning, an hour or two before the major events began. Enough time to reexamine her position in the organization.

Things were getting worse by the day, the leader of the White Fang, Sienna Khan, was demanding more violent methods to influence the many councils of the four kingdoms. She threatened to leave before, after a massacre occurred in a small village north of Vale. White Fang operatives wiped out most of the villagers because they were sympathetic toward the Schnee Dust Company factory not far from their homes.

And why wouldn't they be? The factory provided them with jobs and additional benefits, such as protection from local Grimm. Although the conditions could have been better, who was she to judge how other Faunus got jobs? Adam promised her that he would talk with the upper ranks about their treatment toward innocent citizens.

She checked the lining of the wire strapped to the brick walls of the tunnel. The red and blue wires twisted along the tunnels, until it crawled up an opening through a sewer grate, looping around the grips of the rusted ladder. Her team wasn't responsible for setting up the machines that would dispense the smoke, only to monitor the wires in the sewers and make sure no one tampered with them. Despite her hatred for some of the officials that would be passing through, she requested not to take part in the ambush set up by the smoke.

"These wires look fine to me," a girl on the team remarked. With an amused expression, she poked one of the wires with her finger.

"Don't mess with them," Blake snapped, "You don't want to accidently set off the smoke before the parade do you?" The girl let out a squeak and backed away from the wall, splashing dirty water onto the guy behind her.

New recruits always took time to adjust, but they were even older then she was—a fourteen-year-old soldier was often jarring for others to accept. There was nothing she could do, having lived with the White Fang for all of her life.

"Blake," the girl Faunus softly called. "What made you decide to join at such a young age?" she let out a huff, not in the mood currently to divulge her life history. Instead, she would answer with a quick explanation.

"I couldn't stand to see the Faunus lose so much ground, so I ran away from home and joined the organization." The girl closed her mouth, her eyes softening at the response. Blake questioned why such a sensitive woman also joined their ranks... most of the members carried a burden or two that pushed them to more radical procedures. She imagined this woman was no different.

"Who cares why we all joined," Another member barked, the gruff man leaning against the tunnel wall with his arms folded. "We're all here for the same reason—to achieve justice for the Faunus." The other members cheered in approval, brightening everyone's moods. She used to believe that. The world was gray though, and it was becoming harder to see if their cause was as righteous as many touted it to be.

When did everything go so wrong? Blake vied for the peaceful days when thousands of her kind would take to the streets and raise their signs in protest. She may have been vilified by many, but at least their movement was docile, not feeding into the military oppression of Atlas. Now everyone had a reason to hate them, to see Faunus as the enemy and not the Grimm. What she missed the most however, was Adam's more gentle personality... he was now a mere shadow of who he used to be, consumed with hate for those who knuckled under the council.

Blake reached into her pocket and brought out her scroll, flicking open the device again to navigate through old pictures. As she went through photos of various locales and sights that caught her interest, she finally managed to find her picture of Adam. He was posted up on some large boulder they managed to find in the middle of the forest in the wildlands, the edge jutting out at a weird diagonal angle. At the end of the rock, Blake was sitting calmly with a book in her lap, a representation of how simpler her life used to be.

"I should be up there, what am I doing in a shitty place like this with you amateurs?" The final member of their party commented. He was some punk wanting to impress the White Fang—just another braggart to weigh them down.

A shallow whistle echoed through the damp tunnels from the breeze above them, the wind trickling in-between the holes of the sewer grates. Blake rubbed the back of her arms and sat up, her boots kicking up some of the grungy water onto her black leggings. In a cat-like gesture, she stretched her back, cracking a few knuckles and popping her neck with a satisfied exhale of breath. Time crawled at an exceeding slow pace because of her anxiety, a facet of her personality that stuck with her over the years. There was no such thing as a solid plan, not in their line of work anyway.

The vibration of her scroll stole her attention, a flashing red indicator on the screen that acted as a reminder of when she received a message. Most of her crew was preoccupying themselves with menial activities until the operation was a go, but she didn't need them overhearing any of her private conversations. When it came to others, she was reclusive, an annoyance within the ranks of the White Fang when they needed her cooperation. She excused herself from the group and headed a little further down into the tunnel. The breeze in the sewer flicked across her exposed cat ears, causing them to twitch—the sooner they left the claustrophobic environment, the better.

The only reason Blake actually carried around the infernal device was because of Adam's insistence—he was literally the only number programmed into her scroll. She found her breathing hitched as a bout of nervousness took over. Blake opened the folder, questioning why Adam would message her only minutes before the final phase of the mission. There was open communications on their radios, so why text?

 _Adam: Blake, you need to leave the sewer now._

 _Blake: What are you talking about?_

 _Adam: It doesn't matter, leave your team and escape._

She went pale, reading Adam's response in uncertainty, her finger hovering over the scroll's button. What did he mean leave and abandon the group... was Adam insane? Blake typed away furiously on the device, sending a quick message. Seconds went by without a reply—she found his impeccable timing to freak her out unwarranted.

 _Adam: Leave if you don't want to die._

Without a thought, Blake snapped her neck back in the direction of the tunnel where her group was resting. She pocketed the scroll and jogged forward, kicking up splotches of dirty water onto her clothes. How idiotic was she to fall for such an obvious trap? The nuisances of the White Fang were being disposed of in one flawless operation. The whole ruse about using smoke grenades to assassinate the Atlas officials was always suspicious. What concerned her more, was Adam's blatant disregard for her teammate's lives.

She rushed through the tunnel and caught the silhouettes of the group reflecting off the brick walls. The lights they attached to the walls acted as the only light source in the damp labyrinth. Blake slowed her pace to stop her erratic panting, bending over for a moment to catch her breath. She exhausted her stamina rushing through a vast pool of sewage water, which usually wasn't a problem she ran into. She wiped her brow of sweat and looked ahead, hoping there was still time to escape and warn the others. Her next conversation with Adam would not be calm, her tenure with the White Fang all but over now. She didn't even want to know if he was aware of their plan.

A sudden excruciating wail rang throughout the tunnel, causing her to shield her ears in pain. The best way to describe the sound, was imagining a thousand needles grinding against a flat chalkboard in repeated loops. Blake struggled and fell to her knees, wincing at the continuous sharp pain that reverberated through her cranium. The blaring noise eventually faded after a few minutes, and she looked up to see the others groaning in similar pain. Was the sound designed around their Faunus senses? She shook off the thought and ran forward.

One step was all that she was allowed to take. Multiple explosions erupted from above, shaking the entire tunnel as the ceiling toppled. Blake was thrown back by the force of the blast, her body skidding across the water. Large chunks of debris fell onto the recruits, their screams masked by the ringing in both her ears. She brought herself up from the water and coughed, a salty taste remaining on her tongue as sludge dripped into the water. Blake looked down and grabbed her thigh, hissing in pain as blood seeped through her black buttoned vest and undershirt.

With a contained moan, Blake sat upright and clambered onto her legs, hobbling over to the blast site through the thick dust in the air. She felt the warm rays of the sun gleaming through a large opening of where the sewer's ceiling use to be located, chipped away by the massive explosion.

The noise of piercing sirens and howls of people came into focus, and she leaned against the wall to steady her balance. Blake looked down at what remained of her team, their bodies mangled and broken, little of what they looked like remaining. A fragmented leg sat atop a block of concrete that was stained in blood—the whole scene was something out of a horror story.

The sight didn't shake her, previously having seen worse examples of a massacre. It made her sick that she couldn't weep for them, to not shed a single tear for the unsuspecting members. They were tossed aside like useless garbage, left to decompose in a rotting sewer. Blake took a deep breath and climbed the wreckage to the top. She needed to escape... there was no doubt the White Fang would try and pin the entire incident on her if she stuck around. This was never what she wanted, to recklessly cause the deaths of innocent people.

Blake's marred fingers clutched to the edges of the street above her, grasping onto a loose piece of rebar to hoist her body topside. Smoke obscured her vision, but she could make out the large balls of fire scattered throughout the street. Most of the road was damaged, and in the corner the float where the officials stood was consumed by a whirl of flames that spread to a store close to the street. She fasten a grip on her bloodied thigh, having lost a good amount during her brief climb; her pale hands were stained with dry blood. Blake continued on through the dust, the screams of terror filling her ears as people covered in ash hurdled past to search for more victims.

The distinct smell of melted plastic and charred human skin mixed to create an odor that churned her stomach. Blake ignored her surroundings at first, wishing to not acknowledge the grotesque bodies littered on the ground. She cast her gaze in front of her, staring into the lifeless eyes of numerous corpses—ranging from adults to children—looking back into her amber eyes with an expression of horror. Blake felt her throat dry up, tears finally sliding down her soot covered cheeks. This was her fault, she was indirectly responsible for all of it... her team set up the wires along the sewer walls.

She was a monster.

Her body flinched as the heel of her boot stepped into a puddle of blood. The corpse of an older man riddled with shards of glass and debris sat only a few inches away, its limp hand grasping a golden locket. Inside, was a picture of young girl, most likely his daughter—she was torn up inside, an innocent man's life added to her list of victims. The roar of a helicopter sounded above her, and she quickly ducked under an overturned car.

The police would be combing the area within minutes, and in her injured state, she wouldn't make it far. Blake looked around for anything that could disguise her ragged appearance. Underneath the vehicle, she found a ripped brown cloth that somehow didn't burn up with the rest of the belongings in the vehicle.

A grunt released from Blake's mouth as she draped the cloth over her shoulders, concealing her long black hair and Faunus appendages. She crawled on her stomach back onto the street, and forced herself up with a contained growl, the wound burning against the slightest touch. Hundreds of people converged onto the macabre site, muffled sobs among the paramedics and firefighters that were clearing the debris. Blake pushed past scrambling individuals looking for any signs of life, brushing off their terrified expressions. The aftermath was burned into her mind, a haunting reminder of why the White Fang was a lost cause. There was only one person she trusted now.

"Tukson, are you there?" Blake whimpered on her scroll.

"Are you ok," Tukson inquired in a raspy voice, "I've been watching the news, what happened down there, is everyone ok?" Blake limped into an ally way and plopped her back against the wall, sliding down next to a dumpster—she could barely move her legs anymore.

"I need help... track this scroll to my location." The scroll slipped through her fingers onto the concrete floor. Her vision was blurred, and she fell into unconsciousness, dreading the nightmares ahead.

* * *

Hours later she woke up on a cold metal table in the back of an abandoned bookstore, she recognized the location because it was owned by a freelance doctor that used to treat soldiers in the White Fang. Blake tried to sit up but winced in response due to the massive pain that shot up her back. A warm hand pressed against her shoulder, and she turned to see Tukson with a teary-eyed smile on his face. With trembling hands, she took hold of Tukson, craving any sort of comfort. The darkness outside surprised her, and she looked at the clock in the corner to see it was past midnight. Had she been out the entire day?

From the other side of the room, a red velvet cloth that hung in the doorway was pushed aside by a woman in a long white coat. The woman's curly red hair reflected off the candles lit in the dark room, a quirky smirk on her face showed off her freckles. The coat she wore hugged her slender frame, leaving only a glimpse of the short black frilly skirt she wore—Chrysanthemum was her name if Blake remembered. The good doctor quit months ago, citing the same reservations that Blake shared recently of the organization.

"I see that my patient is finally up." Chrysanthemum snickered, sliding over to the left side of the table with a tablet. She tried to respond, but her voice was hoarse; she coughed a few times, and sensed an ache in her throat.

"You've been out for three days Blake," Tukson answered for her. Three days!? Was her wound more serious than she originally thought? Blake looked to the left to see a tiny mirror–her face was more pale than usual.

"That's what happens when a massive piece of concrete breaks your ribs and punctures the inside of your stomach lining. You're lucky Tukson found you right away–could have died from internal bleeding." Chrysanthemum read off, fiddling with the tablet in her hands. She was always eccentric, but according to Tukson she was a trusted ally.

"T-Thank you... were there, any survivors?" Blake hardly managed to ask, erupting into another coughing fit. Tukson's gaze lowered, his Hazel eyes losing some of their luster at the question.

He cleared his throat, and nodded. "There were a few, yes-but you don't have to worry about that, you need to get well." Tukson eased her back onto the table, pulling out a soft pillow for her to rest on.

Only a few, out of what, hundreds? Based on the amount of wires that trailed along the walls in the sewer, a massive amount of explosives were planted along the sidewalks. Nobody stood a chance of surviving in the epicenter of the blast... at least no one lucky. Tukson flashed her a smile and walked toward the back of the room near an old bookshelf, the columns filled to the brim with novels of all genres. Reading was Blake's only solace besides Adam during her stay with the White Fang—she always made up excuses to read another chapter. Tukson grabbed a book off the shelf and blew the dust off the cover, examining the edges for any protracted wear.

Tukson was the one who introduced her to the hobby, lending her books he recently read. He even joked about opening a store one day, though he couldn't think up a clever name–Blake suggested a more practical approach to attract customers. She missed those simple days, hanging around the empty warehouses with Tukson, Ilia, and Adam, laughing at corny jokes and actually discussing solutions to the Faunus inequality. She learned quickly that peace never lasted, not when humans were killing each other instead of the Grimm.

"I thought you might like this one." Tukson placed the book gently on her lap.

She used what little strength she had, and took hold of the book, lifting up the cover to see the synopsis: a man with two souls is fighting for control over his body. The plot was vague, but she never turned down a suggestion from Tukson, since their tastes were very similar. While the idea of settling down and reading a couple of chapters sounded grand, she wasn't in the right state of mind to enjoy the literature. Blake spotted a television close to Chrysanthemum, and motioned for Tukson to turn it on. From his disgruntled expression, he didn't agree.

"Its ok," She assured, "I want to see." Tukson released a hesitated sigh, and pushed the button. The screen flicked on, and showed a reporter named Lisa Lavender, going over the events of the bombing.

"Lisa Lavender here on sight in Mistral from Vale News Network, and the carnage of the Valentine's Day Massacre is still being felt across Remnant. Thousands of patrons and family members have come to visit the wreckage, leaving flowers and pictures to commemorate the dead." Blake averted her gaze, clenching her fist until the nails dug into the skin.

"In other news," Lavender continued, the screen changing to a press conference in Atlas. "General Ironwood of the Atlas military, has vowed to hunt down the White Fang, and to make all those responsible for this heinous act pay for their crimes. Back to you Cyril." Tukson turned down the volume, scoffing at Ironwood's declaration. The man meant it, he would use all his resources to track them down... including her if they ever found out she was connected.

"None of this was your fault kid," Tukson said, "You're team was misled since the beginning, there was no way you would have agreed to the mission." He was right, but they still contributed to the bombs setup. She was still responsible for allowing the operation to continue–how was she any different, she wanted those discriminating pigs to get killed. They were wretches that raided villages and raped women.

"Regardless, Miss Belladonna won't be moving for a couple of weeks," Chrysanthemum interrupted, brushing a strand of hair from her eyes. "I was able to stitch up most of the wound, but a scar will remain–if the debris punctured any further, your lungs would have collapsed." So she was lucky... surviving by pure chance. She wouldn't waste the opportunity it presented.

"Good, I need some time to think before I leave." Tukson's head tilted in confusion, rubbing the bottom of his stubble.

"What are you planning to do Blake... don't do anything drastic, just leave this life behind." He urged, approaching the side of the table. "Adam's a lost cause, you don't have to throw away your life to prove him wrong." She didn't care about him anymore. Blake's heart was broken weeks ago, though the pain still lingered.

Adam Taurus was no more.

"Don't worry, I have nothing of the sort planned. I just, need time." Tukson nodded in agreement, and asked for Chrysanthemum to leave the room with him so she could get some privacy. She was grateful for the doctor's help, but right now, she wanted to be alone.

That night, she wrapped herself in a number of blankets provided by Tukson like a cocoon. The cold air from outside seeped through the window that was covered up by old strips of tape. Her body shivered, and Blake found herself stirring restlessly through the hours. Where was she going to go? Blake Belladonna, wanted terrorist and murderer—she could already picture the headlines if her involvement was discovered. What she always dreamed of becoming was a professional Huntress.

Whenever her travels brought her close to the academies, she marveled at the grand institutions and happy smiles that prospective students wore. Their lives seemed... so peaceful and ambitious, as if nothing could stop them from accomplishing their dreams. She envied them, but Adam and Ilia always told her it was a feeble thought, just a charade by the kingdoms to make it appear they cared about the masses. Ilia would always remind her that there were no Huntsman to save her parents when they died in the mines.

Her mother painted a different story, admiring the conviction of such brave souls to risk everything in the face of the Grimm. But her duties were with the White Fang, or at least what resembled the organization now. She was selfish to turn her back on her parents when they needed her, to renounce their peaceful ways and leave with Adam. If she returned to her parents now... they would never look her in the eye, not when she was responsible for so many deaths.

Even now she could feel the heat from the embers that consumed those innocent lives above the sewer. She wrestled with her sheets as the faces of more bodies flashed across her mind like a macabre slideshow. She bolted up from the sheets and ran a hand through her hair, the cries of help she whimpered in her sleep were loud enough to attract Tukson. Blake's skin was soaked, and she rubbed her eyes to get the images out. Tukson rubbed her back gently and sat her back onto the bed.

"You're ok, it was a nightmare." He stated the obvious.

"I know... Tukson, I've decided what to do, regardless of how long it takes." He stood from the bed and smiled.

"And what's that?"

"Though I may never forgive myself, I can still use the training my father and the White Fang gave me to help others. I'm going to become a Huntress." Tukson's eyes widened in surprise, but his smirk grew.

That was all the support she needed.


	2. Invitation

The Haunted

By wildstraydog

Chapter Two: Invitation

 **Half of this second chapter will be still familiar, but a lot of extra content has been added to expand Tukson's character and role in Blake's life. I want her enrollment into Beacon to feel more natural instead of rushed like the original story had it be. These updates are only fast until the new content actually starts coming through.**

* * *

Her last couple of weeks in bed were marred by a ritual of monotony and boredom. The only thing getting her by were the numerous recommendations that Tukson threw her way. The man was collector of fine novels, although her tastes did split in some areas. She loved romances and well... some people disgracefully called it smut, but she called it for what it really was: tasteful art. But she wasn't going to complain, Tukson was doing her a considerable favor letting her stay at his place. He was like a second father or uncle.

Good news was Dr. Chrysanthemum said that she could resume her normal duties by tomorrow. Her recovery gave her time to mull on her next plan of action, and she already narrowed down her school of interest. Vale was a sizable city that sat on the same continent of Vacuo, but where Vale exceeded over other kingdoms was Beacon Academy. She did her research, and Beacon was known to produce the best Huntsman and Huntresses out of the other kingdoms, at least based on their records.

Beacon was a fine choice, the only problem was the application process. They followed strict guidelines and background information checks that she would never pass, not without a little tampering. There were a few individuals in Vale that she could ask, but it would take some time, and there was still the examination. She would have to display a considerable degree of combat skill and knowledge in front of the professors before being accepted.

There were months before she had to worry about it, but sitting in bed with nothing but a TV and a few books left you too think your life over. The days following the incident, which the media was now calling the Valentine's Day Massacre, she dreaded flipping on the infernal device. Tukson threatened to take it away if she didn't stop watching the news—and he was right, avoiding those channels did help. He would tell her a few things so she wasn't left in the dark.

"Hey Blake, how you doing in there?" Tukson called from the other room, the smell of grilled meat flowing into the room's open door.

"I'm fine, are you cooking lunch?" She heard a few utensils move about, and his footsteps drew closer.

"Yep, thought I make us some chicken sandwiches." She would have much preferred fish, but that was asking for a lot, she had no right to dictate what he cooked.

"Sounds delicious, I'm famished." Tukson let out a chuckle and glanced over at the bookshelf, the books now in disarray and on the floor.

"You know you have to clean that up tomorrow."

"Thanks for reminding me," Blake quipped back—she was aware of how messy the room had become.

Tukson sat on the end of the bed and grabbed one of the novels she tossed aside. He gave off a toothy smirk and threw it onto the floor with the rest of the pile. "So what's really on your mind Blake?"

She gripped the sheets and looked out the dusty window in the room. "What are we to do once we reach Vale? It's one thing to try and become a Huntress, but it will take time, how are we to live in the city?"

Her question caused him to chuckle. "Funny you say that kitten, I actually have an idea for money." Blake titled her head in curiosity.

"What do you have mind?"

He stood up from the bed and walked over to his shelve where the books were displayed. Tukson motioned with his hands presented it like some model in a game show. "Remember how I always wanted to open up a book store? I haven't been lollygagging while you rested."

She blinked in disbelief and got out of the bed, almost tumbling forward. "You got a business license in Vale? But how so quickly?" That process usually took months before the establishment opened.

"A friend of mine in Vale is selling the store and I used some reserved Lien to purchase it. He took care of the license for me," Tukson explained. "If you wish, we can leave first thing tomorrow." If she could look at herself in the mirror, her dopey smile would be ear to ear.

"I'll have to start my application process soon, but what about my background, if they investigate it will be obvious I was associated with the White Fang..." She couldn't imagine working at a bookstore for the rest of her life.

Well kind of.

"About that," Tukson said. "We might be able to forge some papers to keep you out of trouble—do you want to change your name?" She considered it, but her name was too important to her... abandoning it would give the White Fang a victory.

"No, it's not as if Blake Belladonna was ever named in the papers or anything." Tukson nodded and headed back toward the door.

"I'll leave you to rest now, and Blake," Tukson called out with a whisper. "Try not to have any nightmares... okay?" She nodded back, but it was a hard kept promise.

* * *

It took them four days to reach Vale's harbor, since Tukson suggested they travel by boat to raise less suspicion. When the city came into view, she found her breath taken back in awe. This was the first time she ever visited Vale, its towering buildings stretching into the skies. The streets were filled with the buzzing of people, shopping to their hearts desire. Mistral was no exception to the rule, but Vale came off as modern, the raging highways blurred by the vehicles that drove past. Everything was so, busy.

Tukson's new store was located in the business district of the city, surrounded by lavish clothing stores and busy restaurants that gave off an air of class. But nudged in-between those flashy establishments was a quaint little building, the windows smudged from lack of care. Blake's eyes widened at the sign on top of the store that read, _Tukson's Book Trade._ The letters were painted in a bright gold that reflected off the sun. She memorized the address: 282, 27th Street, that way she wouldn't get lost searching for it.

"So what do you think, fancy huh?"

"It's... amazing, how much Lien did you save up?" Tukson shot her a coy smile.

"Enough, let's go inside, shall we?"

As he opened the door, a soft bell rang above their heads. The store was already lined with shelves with empty spaces for thousands of books to be placed. Near the windows were several racks for smaller magazines and comic books that children could browse. Tukson led her further into the back where the office was located, and in the corner was a nice bronze desk that carried a few scratches on the edges. Whoever Tukson's friend was, they were quite generous.

"This place is great." Blake commented in amazement.

Right? Wait until you see the upstairs, it's pretty spacious for a two bedroom apartment." There were rooms upstairs? The previous owner must have lived here with his wife.

They went upstairs and were greeted with another gracious sight. The apartment was fully set with utilities and a kitchen, and near the windows that overlooked the streets were two bedrooms separated by a bathroom. The view was gorgeous, providing a clear view of district, and the furnishings were fairly new. Tukson was allowing her to stay at such an expensive place, she almost didn't think herself worthy.

"Don't gawk too much, you won't be staying here once you enter Beacon." Tukson joked—such confidence in her was more than she deserved.

" _If,_ I get into Beacon.

"Don't sell yourself short Blake," Tukson chided. "By the way, how is the application going?" Blake set her bag onto the red cough in the center of the room.

"I got a confirmation letter and they sent me a questionnaire and files that I have to fill out. I don't suppose... you have the forged documents?" Tukson said he might be able to doctor some information regarding her past.

"As a matter of fact," Tukson fished in his pocket and pulled out a rolled up parchment. Blake unfolded the paper and gave it a quick scan.

The file read that she was Mistral and came from a nearby orphanage. It was good enough, and the school probably wouldn't question the validity of her parentage. She loved her parents... but listing them would be a terrible mistake, and there had to be other Belladonna's out there besides her.

Hopefully anyway.

"Do you think the school will suspect my last name?"

Tukson shook his head. "That's been taken care of, I made up details about your past, simple things that will distract them, and... I was going to tell you this later, but it says you're human." She flinched for only a moment.

"That's for the best... I should probably get something to hide my ears." Tukson snapped his fingers and ran into the other room.

He emerged from what she presumed would be his room, a bow bound tightly in his grip. "Here, this is for you, to hide your ears." She took hold of the black bow and tied it around her ears, the fabric twitching upon contact.

"Thank you."

"It looks good on you, but I like your ears better." She giggled and found herself embracing him in a tight hug. Tukson would always be the second father she never had.

* * *

Weeks past, and the store finally opened a few days ago. To her surprise, business was good. How Tukson was able to amass such a rich collection was beyond her. Rare and popular novels lined the shelves, and the store's location stood out to Lien heavy patrons. Yet today had been even busier than usual, and in a rare moment he required her assistance. A new book by a popular author released and hundreds of people stood outside in line for an early copy.

The day had been exhausting, and it was still hours before dinner.

In another act of kindness by her close friend, Tukson closed the store early for the day so she could relax. She opted to stay inside most of the day because of the unbearable heat outside, so she set the air conditioner on full blast. When the store was close, Blake found herself walking down the aisles to find a new gem to read. Lately, she was addicted to a series of romance novels called _Ninjas of Love,_ but she wouldn't admit this to Tukson without receiving a plethora of jokes.

The bell to the store rang and her ears twitched, questioning why someone would enter when the sign clearly read closed. She rounded the corner and saw a tall man wearing a green cowl with a strange cross-shaped pin covering his neck, sipping from a brown mug full of what she assumed was hot coffee going by the aroma. His messy gray hair was short, and he wore a black buttoned vest underneath an unzipped suit and green pants. He examined a book from the top of the shelf and hummed aloud in amusement.

The man craned his neck to look over with a smirk, his shades leaning on the bridge of his nose, while supporting half of his weight with an unusual cane. What unsettled her most however, was the man's strange pulsating aura. The man placed the book back into its place and lowered his mug. Blake's instincts kicked into action and she reached for the hilt of Gambol Shroud, freezing in place at the realization that it was upstairs in her room. What if he was from the White Fang?

"There's no need to arm yourself, I have no intention of harming you Miss Belladonna." The man calmly assured, shaking the edge of the mug that bore a familiar school emblem.

"Who are you... and how do you know my name?" Regardless of his stoic expression, she wasn't taking any chances, watching for any subtle movements. There was something familiar about him that she couldn't pin down.

"Based on your apprehension, I imagine you don't realize who I am," the man chuckled, setting down his coffee mug onto the main counter. "My name is Ozpin, and I'm the Headmaster of Beacon Academy." She loosened her nerves, the realization of where she recognized him coming to mind.

"The headmaster... of Beacon? W-what are you're doing here? I'm afraid Tukson is out running some errands." Why did she fumble with her words? She knew why, the sole man responsible for her possible admittance was standing in front of her.

"You misunderstand, I didn't come here to buy a book, not that I doubt this establishment has a wonderful selection. I came to speak with you Miss Belladonna." Blake narrowed her amber eyes, again suspicious of Ozpin.

"Why, did you come to speak with me? I already completed the exam and application process." Ozpin's eyes shifted over to the empty table in the corner of the shop and invited her to sit down.

She joined him at the table and watched for the door, expecting Tukson to enter at any minute. Ozpin set down his cane on top and took a seat across from her, taking another quick sip of his coffee. He shot her a warm smile and relaxed, those eyes of his staring back at her for a response.

"I didn't mean to upset you Miss Belladonna, to my knowledge your application will be accepted. Based on the evaluation of your skills during the exam, you're more than capable of attending my school." She found her mouth go agape.

That was great news, her documents had worked. She would be able to start training, and perhaps make amends for the atrocity she helped create.

"Thank you Headmaster Ozpin, you don't know how much that means to me." She couldn't help but smile.

"Glad to see you're excited, but you must wonder why I didn't just send an acceptance letter." That was true, it was odd that he would take his time and come visit the store just to tell her... there was something else.

Ozpin let go of his mug and folded his hands. "Miss Belladonna, do you know what I admire the most? Honesty, which is strange considering I have gone against this practice many times in my life." Blake shifted uncomfortably at the table, her palms becoming sweaty under his stare.

"What is it, you wish to know?"

"Miss Belladonna, I am not judging you, please remember that—why did you lie on your transcripts? You don't have to wear a bow to impress me." She winced at his observation, he knew about her false documents.

"So you know..."

"Yes," Ozpin answered. "I understand why you hid your true identity. Most would have not caught the connection to be honest, especially since you are passing as a human... my suspicions were only proven when your friend informed me." Her friend...?

The bell rang again but the windows remained blacken, and the familiar stomps of Tukson approached. He rounded the corner carrying a large box full of new books, and when he spotted the two, he smiled. His reaction wasn't that of surprise or anger, but... relief?

"You both finally met, I'm glad." He set down the boxes onto the counter and joined them at the table. Blake remained in shock, her amber eyes shaking in betrayal.

"Why... did you tell him?"

"Blake, you don't have to worry, my associate that supplied this store, was a friend of Ozpin's. You can trust him, more than you think actually." Blake couldn't help but pant, her breathing becoming labored at the rising memory of the bodies that were splayed across the streets.

"Mr. Tukson has told me all about... your past, but I assure you it will have no bearing on your admittance to Beacon Academy. In fact, I admire your desire to change and help those who were victims of the unexpected attack." She nodded in silence, focusing on the table instead of his eyes.

"I'm sorry Blake." Tukson mumbled.

"Ahem, Miss Belladonna," Ozpin grabbed her attention. "Do you believe in second chances—I certainly do. I want you to come to my school, so you don't fall down a path of revenge against the White Fang, but as a Huntress who strives to protect the innocent." Blake finally looked up to gaze upon Ozpin's genuine smile, an expression of determination that she found endearing.

"Do you think... it's possible?"

"Anything is possible Miss Belladonna, especially in this world. Rest assured, no one but I knows about your past or relation to the Valentine's Day Massacre, and the secret will remain with me." Blake almost found herself crying in front of a complete stranger, but she remained strong and nodded.

The headmaster left a few minutes later telling Blake the requirements of her and when to arrive at Beacon. There would be an initiation, but he was confident she would pass with flying colors. When he left, she turned to look at Tukson whose expression was riddled with guilt. She wanted to be angry, but somehow she couldn't find the power in her to lash out. He meant only the best, and he worked so hard to provide for her, so she had no right to shun him for his actions.

She was actually somewhat happy.

"Again, I wanted to tell you Blake, but I thought you wouldn't trust him. Like he said, I told no one else about your past." Tukson placed a hand on her shoulder and smiled.

"I forgive you," Blake whispered. "There was no harm intended. I just have to move forward and do as the headmaster said—the White Fang won't hold me back, it doesn't define who I am." Tukson ruffled her bow like a child.

* * *

In the months leading up to Beacon, she helped Tukson at the store and trained in her free time. The nightmares from before were rare now, and she was genuinely doing better. She never imagined to find herself standing in the massive hall with other prospective students.

The first thing she noticed about Beacon academy, was its diversity: an array of students from all over Remnant scattered about in groups. Sadder more, was the collection of Faunus students in the corner, away from their peers in fear of ridicule or humiliation. Prejudice was something that would never disappear, even in an esteemed academy like Beacon, but she expected more tolerance. Blake too would have been standing with them, if not for the black bow that rested atop her head. The silken bow was a gift from Tukson, a present he intended for his daughter before she passed away.

She would cherish the bow like it was a part of her own body.

When the speech was over, Professor Goodwitch, Ozpin's personal assistant, ordered everyone to retire in the ballroom. The day had been exhausting, and she still remembered the speech Tukson gave her before she departed on the airship. He was such a worrywart, reminding her to brush her teeth and look out for anyone strange looking. She was in awe of Beacon's massive halls and architectural glory, but that all came crashing down when she caught sight of Weiss Schnee, one of the daughters to the tyrannical-like business man Jacque Schnee of the Schnee Dust Company.

The heiress, which she used lightly, was terrorizing some poor girl with a red cape. The prissy bitch tore into the child, releasing all of her rage for no other reason than to establish her status. In hindsight, Blake realized she should have aided the girl covered in dust and soot, but she decided it was better not to get involved.

The ballroom itself was spacious enough to fit majority of the students, while others were placed in a separate room. Unlike most of the girls in the room, she was comfortable sleeping near boys, her caution unwarranted because any boy who tried to get near her would suffer broken bones. She was more content with staying in the corner and reading the novel Tukson lent her after the massacre. The book was one of her favorite titles now, and she annually read it. Too bad the activity was frequently interrupted by the pair of sisters across from her space in the ballroom; tall and blonde, and the younger girl from earlier today.

"Let's go make a new one!" the blonde shouted in glee, dragging the other girl in protest toward her direction. They really didn't see her reading?

"Excuse me, how are you doing!" said the blonde girl.

"Just reading this book that I really would like to continue," she offhandedly hinted. Both girls drew blank expressions, cute smiles wedded to their faces.

"Really like the bow, it goes with your pajamas." Any compliment was appreciated—too bad it fell on deaf ears. These girls were oblivious.

"Thank you... I guess?"

"My name's Yang, and this is my little sister Ruby." So that was the girl's name. Her distinctive silver eyes caught Blake's attention; highly unusual, and by the girl's differing appearances they couldn't be related by blood. None of that was her business of course.

"Blake Belladonna," she answered in a hushed whisper. At the entrance of the ballroom, Blake recognized the stern figure of Professor Goodwitch scanning the room. Goodwitch was a stunning woman, yet stories already spread from the students about her harsh discipline.

"Miss Ruby Rose, can I see you for a moment?" The professor called across the room. She tapped a slender finger on the tablet pushed against her chest, a demure expression planted on her rounded face.

"Sure thing, can my sister come along?" Whatever the professor needed it didn't involve her, and with the sisters gone she could enjoy the rest of the chapter before heading to bed early. Didn't they know initiation was tomorrow?

"Very well, but do behave yourselves." Yang let out chuckle and waved back as they headed for the exit, shooting a quick wink in her direction.

The first semester was going to be arduous.

* * *

For Glynda, the hardest part of the first day, was engaging with new students. Ozpin's remedy for this situation was quite simple, although she disagreed with the assignment. Exactly five years ago, Beacon academy enacted a distinctive new program that allowed for students with unordinary circumstances to enroll. Thousands of submissions were forwarded, presenting each individual's case as to why they should be able to join the academy. Only a handful were selected by Ozpin and herself, and this year a young boy named Jaune Arc was chosen by her, while Ozpin elected for Blake Belladonna. Not only was he kind and gentle, but he retained several qualities that a student were required to display.

Among the candidates for this program, was Ruby Rose, of course she was unaware. The girl's skill with a weapon was unprecedented for her age. When she learned that Miss Rose was related to Qrow, the dots quickly connected. Hence why she chose Miss Rose as the representative to greet Mr. Arc. Of course Miss Xiao Long decided to tag along, but it would be good for the boy to socialize.

In her meetings with the Arc family, Jaune came off as very shy and reserved, somewhat embarrassed by his predicament, and that was the main reason Beacon was so perfect for the boy. A fitting environment that accepted others, regardless of their background or race (ideally).

"So where are we heading Professor Goodwitch?" Miss Rose asked with an innocent grin.

"We're going to meet a student at the entrance," She curtly responded, adjusting her glasses. "As I mentioned before I expect both of you to be on your best behavior." Both girls nodded, keeping their opinions to themselves.

"A student, why isn't he with rest of us?" the elder sister asked. Yang Xiao Long, a girl with impeccable strength and intelligence... but her work output and tactics needed refining in comparison to her combat skills.

"All will be explained when we get there, in the meantime, allow me to do the talking Miss Xiao Long." Yang giggled at her mannerism, poking Ruby's thighs in a joking gesture. How again did she do this job every year?"

"Oh is that him!" Glynda narrowed her eyes and looked down at her tablet. Mr. Arc was a little early.

Glynda escorted the sisters down the steps at a slow pace, taking in Jaune's appearance and luggage. He appeared more organized then when she last met him, his clothes tidier and face clean shaven. The boy's ocean blue eyes were shimmering in awe at the enormous pillars that surrounded him, accompanied by buttresses and sculptures depicting famous Huntsman and Huntresses from the Great War of old. A single green bag lay at the side of his feet, taking her advice to pack light for the journey. His family lived in Mistral, so he was quite away from his home country. Jaune still maintained his innocent smile, and shifted his feet when he caught their gaze.

"Professor Goodwitch, I tried to pack less as you told me to." Jaune meekly said. She noticed him wearing a white glove on his right hand, a simple way to conceal the tragedy he endured.

"Thank you, I'm glad you took my advice," she said. "I would like to introduce you to Ruby Rose and her older sister Yang Xiao Long." The two girls waved, giggling at his reserved greeting. Miss Rose was equally awkward in social situations, so she hoped they could get along.

"It's nice to meet you, I'm Jaune Arc."

"Did you just arrive?" Ruby asked, a renewed sparkle in her silver eyes.

"Yeah, a couple of minutes ago."

"The ballroom is already filled to capacity, so I would like you to escort Mr. Arc to a private dorm room we have provided." Glynda instructed, pulling out a small golden key. The room was adequately constructed to provide any needs for Jaune's condition. They weren't trying to treat him special because of his circumstances, they were just making sure to accommodate any practical services required.

"Easy enough," Yang said, "Let's get going blondie." Jaune nodded and followed the girls up the step. He looked back, stealing a glance at Glynda before he entered though the large red doors that would shape his entire life.

She hoped this was the right decision. Jaune Arc was brilliant, but the young boy suffered a harrowing journey to get where he was mentally. Three years ago, he was caught in the explosion in the Valentine's Day Massacre, buried under the rubble for hours. When paramedics found him, he was bleeding profusely, his left leg and right arm crushed by the debris; the limbs had to be amputated. The long sleeves he wore hid the prosthetics, and from what his mother told her, it took at least a year for him to adjust. Jaune also experienced bouts of phantom pain and recurring nightmares, which she assured the school infirmary would take care of.

Beacon was touted as a bastion for students of all cultures to congregate and share ideals. Jaune deserved a chance just as anyone else to prove he wasn't worthless.


	3. Ghosts of the Past

The Haunted

By wildstraydog

Chapter Three: Ghosts of the Past

 **This third chapter is where things might start to get different, there will be minor changes throughout each chapter until the end of initiation. I'm glad people are liking this rewrite a lot more, though it's kind of fell on the way side, if anyone has suggestions on how to spread the word about the redux let me know!**

* * *

When Jaune arrived at Beacon, he didn't know what kind of reception to expect. The only ones who knew of his disability was Professor Goodwitch, Headmaster Ozpin, and the rest of the teachers. Being a Huntsman was his dream since his grandfather read stories about the heroes of the past conquering the Grimm forces. On Valentine's Day, he expected the parade to be magnificent, the vibrant decorations and captivating music were some of the best sights he ever witnessed. Instead, he was cut down in an instant by the White Fang... three days went by before he woke up.

He did his best to hide the prosthetics, going out of his way to wear longer sleeves and cover his hand with a white glove. His sisters admonished him for trying to hiding it, explaining that many Huntsman and Huntresses had prosthetics as the result of injuries sustained in battle. They were right, but to him the mechanical limbs were just a reminder of that day. The looks of indifference he got from those around him, he loathed it, especially when they tried to hide it.

As Glynda instructed back at his house, he packed only a few sets of clothes and some books that he enjoyed. The trip to Vale was pleasant, and he only suffered a few episodes of motion sickness. Thankfully, his Mother packed some medicine for the ride and an extra bottle for whenever he needed it. Mother... she was so anxious about him leaving, and at one point pleaded for him to reconsider. It wasn't her fault, how could she not fret over him after what happened?

The campus was a spectacular visage, but not as elegant as the two beautiful girls that were escorting him to his private room. The girl with the long blonde hair and glistening lilac eyes was named Yang Xiao Long, and he felt guilty for stealing glances at her long creamy slender legs that were poorly hidden by a short skirt.

The younger sister, who looked nothing like the older blonde, was Ruby Rose, who by her personality was very energetic. Sadly, in his reclusive nature during the years of rehabilitation, he only socialized with a few girls besides his many sisters. Now he could still talk to women, it wasn't like they were carrying cooties or some ridiculous nonsense. Jaune Arc was not a man of words, at least nothing that came out of him was smooth or calculated.

He blamed that on his father.

The expansive halls were painted in an array of colors that accented the statuesque ceiling. Jaune continuously found his gaze preoccupied by another marvelous display of Beacon academy's storied history. The Professor said that his room should accommodate his disability, meaning the bathroom would be set up for when he took off the prosthetics. He still never could get used to removing the mechanical limbs, disconnecting the wires from his nerve endings with the push of a button; it was painful every time.

"So Jaune, where are you from?" Yang asked, a sparkle of curiosity present in her gaze. She was definitely more forward then most women he met.

"I come from Mistral, near the south in a small little village. Somewhere you probably haven't heard of." He briefly answered, though he left out the little tidbit about it being near Cadsum—the very city were the Valentine's Day Massacre occurred. She would have asked too many questions.

There was no malicious intent of hiding what happened to him three years ago. Jaune was not in the belief that Yang or Ruby would judge him, no one ever did, but the looks of pity, he couldn't stand those. He liked to hide what happened to him for as long as possible when meeting others, however if they discovered his condition, by no means would he hide it.

There was no reason to.

Jaune only hoped that everyone at Beacon could look past what happened to him, and concentrate on who he actually was. His enrollment into Beacon was the last handout he would ever accept from anyone. The only problem was adjusting to the prosthetics in combat, a tedious process that would take weeks.

Ruby sprang ahead of him and Yang and pointed to the door in the corner of the hall. He presumed it was his room, though he was surprised by how empty the dorm was. Did everyone already go to bed?

"This is it," Ruby cheered, "You're so lucky you get a room!" How was he lucky? He turned back to look at Yang who shrugged in response.

"We have to stay in the ballroom with the rest of the students. Kind of suspicious that you get your own room... what are you, royalty?" Yang narrowed her eyes with a Cheshire grin, leaning on the front of his door.

"No, nothing like that, I assure you." Jaune chuckled. He pushed through Yang and used the key that Professor Goodwitch supplied.

Yang released a yawn and covered her mouth, a sign of mild fatigue beginning to surface. "Ruby I'm going to let you finish up here, I'm pretty beat—oh and Jaune?" He looked over to see Yang leaning in for a whisper.

"Don't... try anything with my sister." His spine went limp, and a chill shot through his body. She would probably rip his balls off.

"I'll be back shortly," Ruby chirped, waving as Yang left. There was a good chance his fellow blonde might become the death of him.

He opened the door to reveal a spacious room with one king-size bed against the wall. In the left corner was a tiny black shelf that was perfect for placing his assortment of novels, while a desk sat close by with a cheap lamp attached to the wall. At the middle of the room was a plain wheelchair with a blue plush comforter on the seat. The bright red carpet was stitched meticulously with an embroidery that's design resembled a tidal wave in the ocean. The room was far more extravagant then he deserved, and he was somewhat embarrassed by the lengths Professor Goodwitch went to make him comfortable.

There was still the bathroom to explore, hopefully it wasn't too gaudy.

"Wow Jaune, you have an amazing room, do you think ours will be as decorated?" Ruby looked over at Jaune who was still gawking over the well-furnished bed that was supported by a lacquered frame.

"This is probably temporary." Jaune said aloud in disbelief. He walked into the room and placed his bag onto the bed's purple silken sheets. Just being in the dorm seemed luxurious, his back used to the cheap springs of the bunkbed in his old house that he shared with his sisters.

"Um, Jaune," Ruby softly called out, her tiny frame bent over the wheelchair in bewilderment. "Why is there a wheelchair in here?" He groaned, the placement of the chair was unfortunate. There was no way of getting around this, unless he told a white lie.

A sigh released from his lips and he hobbled over to the chair, relaxing against the seat and propping his legs onto the footrest. "The chair is for me... it's to help me get around in my room or around the campus." Jaune answered in a somber voice that did not go undetected by Ruby. There was no real choice in hiding it from her after seeing the wheelchair.

She look like the type of girl who would persist in questioning.

"Are you okay!?" she questioned with concern, leaping to his side with a panicked look in her silver eyes. This was why he despised talking about the subject.

"It's alright, I'm fine," Jaune assured, rolling back the chair toward his bed. "I guess there's no point in hiding it from you. Promise me you won't tell everyone ok?" she nodded, and Jaune let out another sigh as he lifted the sleeves on his left leg, revealing a metal prosthetic that extended down from the thigh.

The prosthetic itself was made from a light variant of titanium that was imbued with Dust so the metal wouldn't rust. The plates were held together by screws that tracked down the sides, while inside was an intricate layout of wires that were connected to his nerve endings.

A series of gears were placed where Jaune's knee originally was and helped controlled his leg movements when he bent over or kicked. Everyone in his village were amazed by the science of it all, but the funny thing was, it was one of the cheaper models. The surgery was the worst part, he had to endure a massive amount of pain while conscious, relying only on the painkillers to help him not pass out.

"You... lost your leg?" Ruby carefully remarked.

"And my arm—it happened three years ago." The room grew quiet as the news sunk in. Ruby bent over and examined the leg with a closer look, tracing her soft tiny fingers on the reflective metal.

"Does it hurt?" Ruby innocently asked, her eyes not filled with their usual energy.

"Occasionally, but I've gotten used to it," Jaune was able to endure most of the pain throughout the month. What really hurt was the phantom pain; waking up in the middle of the night trying to lift an arm he didn't have. "Again, I would really appreciate it if you keep this quiet and don't let anyone know until it's necessary." Ruby stood away from the chair and smiled, patting him on the shoulder.

"Of course! I won't tell anyone about your secret, I mean we're friends right?" Jaune chortled at how easily she accepted it. The look of empathy he was accustomed to wasn't present in her rare silver eyes, only a gleeful smile.

"I should probably get ready for bed, we have initiation tomorrow." Jaune stated, twisting the wheelchair in the bathroom's direction.

"You need any help before I leave?" Ruby asked at the door.

"Don't worry, I'll be fine." She walked over to the door and looked back one last time with a reserved wave, and gently shut the door close.

Both of them seemed really nice, and the fact Ruby wasn't bothered about his condition further secured her friendship with him. Ruby was innocent, though a little naïve, while Yang appeared outgoing and humorous. Yet how would she respond if she found out like Ruby? This was his initial opinion anyway, but for meeting two beautiful girls on the first day, he did a pretty good job. He didn't stand a chance with either of them, but that was okay, Jaune wanted more friends to fill the void of his early teenage years and not a potential love interest.

Tomorrow would be a different story, as he would be meeting hundreds of new faces from across Remnant, and not all of them would be friendly. Where there was pity when it came to his missing limbs, bullying followed. The lowest denominator of the human species mocking him for his disability. Most people were sensible, not wanting to bring up the tragedy that was the Valentine's Day Massacre.

Jaune wheeled himself into the bathroom, taking in the colorful shower curtain and the cushion placed on the toilet seat. The bathroom itself was normal, the mirror lit up by small circular lights. He pulled back the curtain and saw that everything was in order: two metal bars drilled into the walls so that he could support his weight, and in the tub was a built-in seat close to the knobs. Professor Goodwitch was right when she said Beacon would adjust to his needs. Jaune rolled back into the main room and sat on the bed. He dropped his pants and reached down to the clamps around his limb.

The repetitive process required him to unleash the clamps holding down the wires. When releasing the connection, a sharp pain shot through the left side of his body. He began to pant, and sweat dripped across his brow. The leg came off slowly, and he set down the prosthetic onto the floor while he calmed his breathing.

Going through the motions never got easier, and he moved on to his right arm. When he was done, his body was covered in sweat, the t-shirt his mom packed was now soaked. The doctors said he should avoid showering with the limbs on; while they wouldn't rust, it could potentially mess up some of the wiring inside the plates. He didn't need to be electrocuted.

He stumbled into the wheelchair and headed for the shower, desiring a quick refreshing wash. The trip across the sea to Sanus was long and arduous, and the food on the airship wasn't to his liking, not when it was pre-wrapped sandwiches that looked days old. What he really wanted was a nice, hot meal from the cafeteria. That or the lunches his sisters cooked.

He shouldered some regret for lying to Ruby about the room being only temporary. Professor Goodwitch told him before leaving for Beacon about how the team dynamics worked at the academy, which she stressed was not to be revealed to students except for exceptional situations.

The initiation's purpose was to test the performance of incoming students and how they adapt in team working environments. Every team in the school consisted of four people, and this would be the same in Jaune's case. However, because of his circumstances, he would be unable to share a dorm with the others. The room was built for students with disabilities which according to Professor Goodwitch, was not that uncommon. But he wouldn't let this setup bring him down when he worked so hard to reach Beacon academy. Even if it isolated him.

As the hot water spilled across his body, he contemplated his goals. Jaune wanted to become a Huntsman and help those with similar conditions. He looked down at his missing limb, and cursed the White Fang, loathing how an organization that used senseless violence could be so thriving. He did not hate the Faunus, nor their justified cause to be equal, but he despised the White Fang and the body count they racked up over the years. His fist slammed against the tiles in the shower and he exhaled, clearing his mind of the hatred he felt.

In therapy, they taught other victims how to control their anger over what happened in the past. The first year was difficult when he didn't have the use of prosthetics, and he even contemplated suicide once in his depression. Thank the lord his family was so supportive. Kids back in his village often labeled him a coward for this, spending most of his time with the nurses in the rehabilitation center in the main capital and people with similar disabilities.

Any rage had long dissipated, but the deep seated malice he held for them would never fade. Beacon provided a newfound solace, and tomorrow he could focus on making new friends. Jaune missed his family, and Professor Goodwitch would fill the role as his new counselor. Mandatory visits every month were required as part of his enrollment, a precaution to make sure he was mentally fit to be a Huntsman. He took a deep breath and smiled, focusing on the days ahead.

* * *

The morning was packed full of students waiting in line at the cafeteria, and Blake was just one of the many poor souls agonizing over getting a hot breakfast in time. When she walked in, the bagels caught her attention, and she decided to make it a mission to stand in line. Her bow twitched in anticipation, the smell assaulting her nostrils. She was in control of her hunger, but an empty stomach during initiation could be a fatal mistake among the Grimm; they weren't going to allow her to have a quick snack. Blake spotted the two sisters from last night entering from the back, an excited grin on Yang Xiao Long's meticulously preserved face and blonde locks.

Normally she would not have cared about their presence, but last night the girls returned to the ballroom when the lights were off. She was actually curious about what Professor Goodwitch needed from the two of them. Or maybe she was putting too much thought in the matter?

"Blakey!" What did she just call her?

The blonde hopped over to where Blake was standing in line, ignoring the protests of other students who complained about cutting. The younger sister, Ruby, stayed behind and watched from afar—she seemed the more sensible of the two. "Please don't call me that." Yang rebuffed the suggestion and peeked over her shoulder to gander over the hot meals. Her lilac eyes darted back and forth until they settled on the simmering bacon at the far end of the shelf.

"But we're great pals," Yang cooed.

"Just because you know me doesn't mean you can cut in line before everyone else." Her laugh was hesitant, realizing she been caught.

"Help a girl out will you," Yang pleaded in a whisper. Blake released a sigh and moved over to allow Yang some room, somewhat regretting her decision. "I really appreciate it, you won't believe how often these lines are!" Oh she could, the lines for rations in the White Fang were quite similar, if not more hostile.

Another fond memory lost to the ages.

"How come you left your sister behind?"

"Ruby? Ah, don't worry about her, besides I'm going to get enough food for the two of us anyway." Blake glanced at Ruby from the line, the raven-haired girl sitting at a table by herself with a smile.

"So what do you think our initiation is going to be?" Yang asked, a look of unbridled excitement plastered on her face.

"I don't know, but I overheard some students talk about how the initiation at Beacon changes every year. Last year everyone had to reach a temple and secure chess pieces." She wasn't concerned about the initiation personally, not when Ozpin assured her that it would be an easy task for someone of her skill. Lesser Grimm such as Beowulf and Boarbatusk didn't frighten Blake, having disposed of them several times during her earlier missions with the White Fang.

"Let's hope it's something exciting," she voiced, bringing up her fists with a slow jab. "I'm ready to take my children on a test drive." Blake found the blonde's weapon choice fitting for her personality. From what she could tell, they were two gauntlets outfitted with a shotgun that probably used some type of Dust cartridges.

Gambol Shroud was a weapon that took her years to perfect, updating the blade and handle through several iterations. Adam suggested she use her speed as an advantage by using the black ribbon tied to her arm. When Gambol Shroud was unsheathed from its metal casing, she would attached the ribbon to the trigger of the pistol and maneuver through obstacles. The steel of the katana was forged by a blacksmith she met through Adam's connections, although he bore no ties to the White Fang, only helping to create the weapon as a favor.

"Finally!" Yang shouted in hunger, pushing ahead and sliding large portions of bacon, eggs, and bagels onto the two plates she grabbed. How much food could she pack into that muscular stomach of hers?

After Yang scoured most of the food, she followed her back to the table where Ruby sat. She didn't expect to be dragged into socializing with the pair, but it did beat huddling in the corner with the rest of the Faunus at Beacon. She already heard the horrible slurs being tossed around by racist pigs in the hallway at certain Faunus.

What did she expect though? That Beacon would be some charitable location that was free from bigotry? Racism was everywhere, and hate for the Faunus wouldn't die anytime soon. The Valentine's Day Massacre only intensified the resentment toward her kind.

Blake sat across from Ruby and picked up her fork, digging into the eggs that Yang praised was the best she ever tasted. As she took in the taste, she was actually impressed, the texture complimenting the broad flavor. Guess it was no surprise that Beacon had some of the best chefs in Remnant cooking for future Huntsman and Huntresses. She continued eating while Ruby chastised Yang for cutting in line, something that was probably a normal occurrence in the family. Blake would be lying to herself if she said she never imagined what having a proper sister in the family would be like.

Tukson was the closest thing she had to an uncle or brother.

"Jaune," Ruby called out, "Over here!" Blake glanced over her shoulder to see a tall blonde walk over to the table. What grabbed her attention however, was the strange metal sound that accompanied his footsteps.

"You guys actually saved me a spot?" Jaune asked in disbelief.

"Duh, you're our friend!" Ruby responded as if it was a factual statement. She noticed him cock a smirk, and he relaxed into the chair next to her, the refreshing fragrance of aftershave hitting her nose.

"Oh I almost forgot," Ruby mumbled, "Jaune, this is our other new friend that Yang found; Blake Belladonna." He turned in his chair to look at her and extended his left hand, an enthusiastic grin on his personable face.

She took his hand and nodded, taking note of the white glove on his right hand. "Pleased to meet you, I guess." Blake wondered how many people these sisters caroled into being their so-called new _friends._

"That's not how you introduce yourself!" Yang complained, a spoon hanging from her mouth.

"And how am I supposed to introduce myself?" Blake sardonically asked, an eyebrow raised in question. She presented the appropriate way in which to exchange greetings with another person.

"Like this." Yang pushed her seat forward, and bent over the table. She leaned up toward Jaune and smiled, Yang's ample cleavage front and center for him to gaze at in embarrassment. "Hey handsome, where have you been all my life?" Jaune turned away with a blush on his cheeks, earning a hysterical laugh from Yang. She was definitely a character.

"Perhaps if I was flirting with him, maybe." Actually she probably would never be caught dead hitting on a man with such inhibition.

"Aw, you're both no fun."

"Sorry about Yang, guys, she can be a little difficult." Ruby giggled, wiping her face of crumbs. Was she eating cookies for breakfast?

There breakfast was cut short when the intercoms sung out an irritating static. The familiar educated tone of Headmaster Ozpin reverberated through the cafeteria, and he cleared his voice before speaking. "Hello students, I hope you all enjoyed your sleep, because initiation will begin in thirty minutes. Please make way to the locker rooms on the east side of the academy and wait for further instruction."

"Sounds like mealtime is over." Yang remarked, patting her exposed midriff. Blake left her plate half empty, getting up to prepare before the rest of her friends.

She was ready to prove herself.

* * *

The locker room wasn't hard to find, but Jaune found himself separated from the only people he knew in Beacon. He unfolded the crumbled piece of paper in his grip and went over the numbers, mesmerizing the code. Most people would have joked over Crocea Mors simplicity, but he thought it was elegant: a relic to some, its blade could still cut through most steel-like hides of the Grimm. He couldn't fathom why his Father would bestow such an important heirloom into his possession. Only problem now was finding the damn thing in a sea of lockers... did his older sister have this much trouble in Beacon?

Jaune perused through the lockers until his face collided with someone's back. He stumbled onto the ground and dropped the slip of paper, rubbing his tousled blonde hair where a bump emerged. Jaune looked up from the ground and was stunned by the heavenly figure standing over him. Despite the girl's disgruntled expression, her face was pale except for her rosy cheeks, a vertical scar tracing down her eyelid. The angel's eyes were light blue like ice crystals, complimenting her long snowy white hair that trailed down her back in a ponytail. He clambered onto his feet and bowed in apology.

"I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to bump into you!" Jaune almost shouted. He opened one of his eyes to see the girl with alabaster skin huff in annoyance, flipping her ponytail in response.

"Its fine, just watch were you're going ok? You could have hurt me you know." She chided, glaring at him like he was some unkempt child.

"Again I'm sorry," Jaune rubbed the back of his neck, "I'm Jaune Arc by the way." He extended his hand, praying that the 'Snow Angel' would grace his presence.

The girl sighed, offering a curtsey. "Weiss Schnee, heiress to the Schnee Dust Company. Glad to see you at least have manners." Not the best start on meeting another elegant beauty. Her appearance reminded him of the princesses in the stories his grandfather read to him as a child.

The grip of the white glove he wore on his right hand was loose, and he stopped smiling, dropping his composure for just a second to mutter in relief. It would have been disastrous if he dropped his glove in the middle of the locker room. While Ruby never asked in the succinct time to explain his condition, he was actually ashamed of his disability, the surprised gazes a constant reminder of the massacre. Hence, why he even went to the trouble of keeping it a secret _when_ he could.

"I'm... sorry." Jaune morosely replied, avoiding the judgmental glare she directed.

"You don't have to keep apologizing," she said in irritation. "Be more aware of your surroundings, and be grateful that I have mercy." Weiss was pushy, her aura that of a disciplined girl who endured countless lessons of etiquette. By her clothing and title, he knew she was rich, even if he didn't really keep up with big conglomerates such as the Schnee Dust Company. He heard of the factories only in passing back in his village.

"What's that you're holding?" Weiss questioned.

"The combination number for my locker... if I can find it that is." He chuckled.

"Let me see," Jaune handed over the slip, and Weiss pointed to his left. "You're locker should be located over there in the third row." She gave back the paper and turned to leave, one hand planted firmly on her hips.

"Goodbye Arc, perhaps our next meeting won't be so abrupt." He was about to reply when another familiar girl walked past him, her flowing red hair brushing against his shoulder. His knowledge of celebrities or entertainment past his favorite comic book heroes was limited, but everyone from Mistral knew who the mighty Pyrrha Nikos was.

Four-time champion of the Mistral regional tournament, how could anyone not know who she was? Why someone so strong from Mistral transferred to Beacon academy puzzled him, especially when she was guaranteed a top spot in Haven academy. Many of her fans would have been disappointed, so maybe she was just trying to get away? His family watched every tournament, and Pyrrha was somewhat of an idol to them. He watched as Weiss reappeared before the champion and struck up a conversation, introducing herself in a proper manner in vein of their brief meeting.

"Nice to meet you Weiss, but have we not met before?" Pyrrha politely mused. Her emerald-colored eyes sparkled radiantly against the ceiling lights, her smile almost as brilliant as the girl's handcrafted golden armor.

"Yes, but I wanted to be considerate in case you forgot." Jaune swallowed, and decided to walk over and introduce himself. He needed more friends, and Weiss and Pyrrha seemed like opportune choices.

"Excuse me," he interrupted, Weiss shooting him an annoyed glare. "I didn't mean to interrupt—my name's Jaune Arc, you're Pyrrha Nikos right?" She nodded, but something was off about her reaction. The vibrant energy in her eyes dwindled at the mention of her name... perhaps he introduced himself wrong?

"Well, it's very nice to meet you Jaune, are you a fan?" she hesitated in her question. Weiss folded her arms and maintained a grimace, tapping her foot in impatience as they both waited for a response.

"I am, my family often watched the tournaments, and you're incredible." She maintained the weak smile, taking hold of his hand to shake it with a strong firm grip. He couldn't shake the sensation that something was very wrong, the smile Pyrrha held was almost fake.

"Pyrrha," Weiss nudged, "I don't suppose you know what the initiation will entail?" Pyrrha shook her head, the gold ringlet on her ponytail shifting.

"Afraid not, though my agent told me it would be vastly different from last year's. I only know that teams will make up four people." Weiss nodded in acknowledgement; the same information that was spreading around the school.

"Well I should probably get my stuff, it was nice meeting you girls." Jaune excused himself and headed for the third row as Weiss instructed. Pyrrha was very kind and warm in contrast to most celebrities he saw on television, but that greeting bothered him. Weiss came off as privileged, although considerate of others feelings.

Strange how all of the people he was meeting were beautiful girls.

Locker 636 stared back at him devoid of any decorations like those next it. Jaune fiddled with the lock until the door opened, revealing Crocea Mors in all its glory. The sheath was nothing special, coated in jet black paint, while on the side of it the Arc family insignia was present in matte gold. What made Crocea Mors special and a renowned relic, was the blade itself, forged by one of the greatest blacksmiths in Remnant's history over the course of a year.

The hilt was shaped like a cross, each individual layer painted a bright gold that contrasted its blue pommel. The blade was double-edged, its steel glinting against the locker room lights. Behind it was his shield, which also was layered with gold around the edges, and in the middle was a symbol that people mistook for an arc. Unlike most of the students here, the only change Crocea Mors took was the ability to become a two-handed blade when combined with the shield.

"Please make your way toward the cliffs." Professor Goodwitch announced over the intercom. Jaune grabbed Crocea Mors and his foldable shield, sprinting to the exit where a crowd of students were lined up.

Voices from hundreds of students traveled across the precipice of the cliffs overlooking the massive Emerald forest. Jaune knew very little of Vale's geography, only knowing that several cities away from the capital were situated on the coastline. He suspected the initiation would mostly take place deep in the forest. A school like Beacon probably set up precautions for larger Grimm in the area, so he didn't expect to see any Death Stalkers or Nevermore's wandering around...

Hopefully anyway, Grimm did not account for the plans of humans as evidenced by the Mountain Glenn incident.

"Settle down students," Glynda barked, gaining everyone's immediate attention. Jaune personally didn't understand the fear most of the students exhibited toward the professor; she was very motherly in his opinion. "Headmaster Ozpin will now reveal the rules for this initiation."

Ozpin nodded and pointed his cane at a holographic screen that popped up next to him. He took a sip of his coffee and produced a grin. "The Emerald forest is a serene vista within in Vale, however it is teeming with creatures of the Grimm, ranging from large Ursai to the lesser Beowolves many of you have probably practiced on." The screen blinked and displayed a map for everyone to study.

"The mission is quite simple: There are several Ursa located in the Emerald forest with ID bracelets attached around their necks for you to obtain, and students may team up into groups of four or eight. But remember, each ID bracelet can only belong to one team of four, and those who do not acquire these ID's will be disqualified." Jaune gulped, the thought of all his efforts wasted if he failed at the back of his mind.

Jaune looked down at his feet and noticed the spring mats that would launch them into the forest. A whistle broke his attention and he saw Ruby waving in the distance next to Yang. Maybe he should team up with them, although Pyrrha and Weiss also seemed like a good option. He needed a group that would be able to coordinate well, and without knowing how many bracelets were out there, his time would be short. Yet he knew nothing of their fighting styles, except for the obvious bright yellow gauntlets on Yang's forearms.

"One last warning children," Glynda announced, "A time limit of two hours is in place, but rest assured that most of the forest has been cordoned off for you to locate the Ursa and not worry about stronger Grimm in the area." Two hours?! Oh great, that was just wonderful."

"Good luck." Ozpin said through a sip of his coffee.


	4. Forced Cooperation

The Haunted

By wildstraydog

Chapter Four: Forced Cooperation

The clearing near the base of the cliffs served as a nice area for Jaune to grab his bearings. He looked back at the mangled branches and scattered leaves that were victims of his rough landing. Rotted twigs slid off his breastplate as he stood up, and he wiped the dirt from his pants with a grunt. The forest was unusually quiet save for the distant chirps of the birds flying overhead. Jaune pulled out Crocea Mors from its sheath and released a sigh, twisting the blade with his metal wrist to test the joints. So far everything was working, but the real trial would be in combat.

First, he needed to find Ruby or Yang if possible. From what he saw while in the air, they were closest to his location. He trekked forward and used his sword to cut through some of the foliage blocking a path to the north. With no real destination in mind, it seemed like the best idea. The ground was muddier then normal for his taste, his shoes sinking with each step. He didn't remember it raining last night, though most of his thoughts were preoccupied with the past. At least no one but Ruby knew about his disability yet.

Jaune kicked a log to the side, not caring if he made any unwanted noise for the Grimm to hear. They would attack regardless because of the fearful thoughts of the students afraid not to pass the initiation. The sound of running water caught his attention, and he rushed ahead, finding a tiny stream entrenched by moss covered rocks. He bent over and took out the canteen attached to his hip, filling the container until it was full. The water was clear from what he could tell, and he had much worse back in his old camping days.

The recoil of a pistol echoed in the forest to the left of his direction. Jaune leapt from where he was bending over and pushed through the brush, ignoring the pine needles his feet were kicking up. The shot wasn't too far out—Grim would converge on whoever fired so he needed to hurry. Hopefully it was Ruby popping off a few Beowulfs with that extravagant innocent smile she carried. He slid under a boulder that acted as cover, peeking over the edge to see three Boarbatusk clawing at the base of a large tree. Their pig-like snorts grew louder in frustration at the shadowy figure above.

Without thinking, he emerged from cover and leveled his sword at them, earning their attention quickly. One of the Boarbatusk rolled up into a ball and charged forward, dirt flying through the air in its tracks. Jaune slipped to the left and brought down the blade onto its back to throw it off track, causing it to derail into a tree in the corner. "Serves you right," he quipped, forgetting about the other two.

"Watch your back!" Blake dropped from the tree and fired off a few rounds of her weapon, throwing the Boarbatusks off direction. He watched in awe as she wrapped a ribbon around the tree and lobbed herself behind him.

"Your sword won't crack their hides, you have to hit them in the stomach." Blake cited like a professor, holding up sword close to her chest. Her amber eyes were narrowed at the surrounding Grimm, the Boarbatusk he injured earlier clambering onto its legs. He only managed to piss it off, its red eyes flitting between the two of them.

"Then I'll give you an opening." Jaune said, unfolding his shield. He surmised that if his shield could help with his landing, then it probably could take the brunt force of a Boarbatusk charge. He just needed to flip them on their sides so there underbelly's were exposed.

He took a deep breath and took note of his position. The first two Boarbatusks in front of him were more of a concern then the one Blake was watching over. Jaune tightened his grip on the hilt of Crocea Mors, his palm brushing against the spiraled grooves that decorated it. With his shield hand, Jaune bent over and picked up a large pebble, throwing it at one of the Boarbatusks head. The Grimm was infuriated, its eyes glowing in anger; all three rolled up into balls and accelerated. Blake sheathed Gambol Shroud and used the metal clever to stop the Grimm's momentum, flipping it onto its back. The blade pierced through flesh, killing the Grimm instantly.

The finesse she showed was incredible, but he wasn't able to keep his mouth open as the second Grimm rammed into his shield. Sparks flew as its tusks pushed forward, forcing his feet into the dirt in a bear-knuckled struggle. The third Boarbatusk rounded the edge of the clearing and shot toward him, leaving him little chance of escape. "Do it now!" he shouted, forcing his shield in an upward motion that snapped the Grimm's jaw. Blake jumped in front of the Boarbatusk behind him and used her semblance to leave a fiery clone that burst upon its impact.

She took apart Gambol Shroud and used the distraction to cleave the other Grimm in half, leaving nothing but the strange dark mist behind as evidence of her work. He still couldn't get over how amazing her skill was, even for a young huntress in-training; she was leagues ahead of him. Blake cleared her throat and attached Gambol Shroud to her back with an irritated sigh. She looked perturbed by his interference.

"I could have handled them you know." So he was right.

"Sorry, I thought you were in trouble." She raised an eyebrow at his comment, but shrugged.

Blake walked across the clearing and stomped through a bush on a path heading to the east. He was unsure if he should follow her, but Ozpin specifically stated that teams of up to eight people could be formed. There was also the fact that he had no idea of where to go, or where to even find an Ursa. He pinched the bridge of nose and followed, massaging where his right shoulder would have been. The joint tightened during the skirmish with the Boarbatusk—he was so wrapped up in the battle that he didn't notice the sharp pain until the adrenaline ceased. The doctors said the numbing would eventually fade with prolonged use of the prosthetics.

Blake Belladonna, as he remembered she went by, was quiet, not having said a word since their encounter in the clearing. He managed to keep pace with her, but she was astute of her surroundings, glancing back and forth at the tiniest sound in the forest. Unlike the bombastic pair of sisters he met, she was reserved and peerless, her striking amber eyes full of emotion that she did not flaunt. Blake was the type of girl he was often uncomfortable around, always struggling to start up a conversation. Their brief interaction didn't inspire any hope that they would get along, her expression that of someone that wasn't impressed.

Jaune almost bumped into a nearby tree, his eyes focused on the black-haired girl as she came to a stop and held up her right hand. He noticed the silk black bow on top of her head twitch, which roused up a stifled giggle. The glare she shot back was warning enough not to make any noise in a Grimm infested forest. Yep, she totally didn't like him.

"Be quiet," she whispered, taking a knee. A large branch snapped in the distance and was followed by the familiar grunt of a Beowulf.

He bent over and walked up to Blake who sported a grimace. Up head in the forest, sat a dilapidated rotunda encompassed by hundreds of vines. The wood that was supporting the ceiling was rotted and splintered, while the metal benches in the middle were rusted from years of absence. Nature took over with its powerful grip and morphed the human-made scenery into a natural setting in the expansive forest. It was more puzzling to him that people attempted to build anything where the Grimm were dominate. But that wasn't why they stopped.

Around the structure, were a group of Beowulfs resting in silence, their mumbled groans tangled into an orchestra of breathing. The pack made its home around the complex, the flattened grass on the sides dug into makeshift beds for the creatures to slumber at night. Carcasses of other animals were stacked along the hunkering trees around them, leaving a pungent odor that wafted into their nostrils. What sat in the middle however, was their objective: a growling Ursa that was set apart from the Grimm not for just its size, but for the bracelet that was attached on its wide neck.

How lucky were they to find a bracelet so soon?

"We found one," Jaune said in an excited whisper. He clenched his fists in victory and studied the item that would lead to his stay at Beacon. Although it was hard to see from their spot, a flashing red light blinked in intervals.

"Okay, so now what?" Jaune looked for answers at Blake who furrowed her brow with an amused expression.

"You think I have an answer? Do you see how many Grimm are down there? It would be one thing if the Ursa was alone... but there has to be around ten or so Beowolf's napping around it." His enthusiastic grin dropped at the obvious—she was right though, jumping in would be suicide.

"Then how are we supposed to get the bracelet?"

Blake let out a low hum and stood from their perch. "Honestly I don't know any way besides waking them up. This test revolves around forming a team. The professors knew where to place the bracelets." In purposefully dangerous spots? But if they left it for someone else, his chances of failing skyrocketed again. He worked too hard to be here.

"Your clones," Jaune uttered, "How many can you make at a time?" She blinked for a few seconds and sighed. "Maybe two or three depending on how much aura I have—don't think what happened back in the clearing applies to an Ursa." Damn... she sure knew how to put a damper on any of his plans. No, he could still use this.

"We won't need them for offense," he said, "Can you slice off the head of an Ursa?" Her amber eyes widened at the question. He knew it was a lot to ask for, but she was probably more capable of the feat.

"I could, but I would have to build up a lot of momentum and force to accomplish that." Jaune looked around the rotunda and spotted a tree behind the Ursa, most of its leaves rotted away by the incoming fall weather—it was perfect.

"Can your ribbon hold your weight?" Blake narrowed her eyes and nodded. In hindsight, he probably could have worded that better.

"Then I have a plan, though you might have to improvise," he chuckled, "Blake, I know this is asking a lot, but with the Ursa planted in front of that tree, we may have a chance." She dropped her uncertain gaze and focused on him.

"I'm listening."

"Okay, great," Jaune mumbled, "Those clones of yours are useful, especially if you can make them last long enough to distract the pack." His presumption was based off what he saw, so he couldn't account for time limit or potency.

"They'll only last for a few seconds."

"That's all we need, and if I have to, I'll throw some rocks like before and draw their attention away from you." He was inviting a lot of risk in this plan. There was no way of knowing how many Beowolf might rush him.

"And how does that allow me to kill the Ursa?" Blake questioned. Jaune pointed at the tree with a humbled smile.

"Use your ribbon to create a slingshot out of the trunk and hurl yourself at the Ursa; that should create enough force to behead it." Blake detached Gambol Shroud and undid the ribbon around her arm in hesitation.

"A good plan, but what about the rest of the Grimm?"

"We'll cross that bridge when we come to it," he answered, releasing another unsure laugh. Blake rolled her eyes and lifted her weapon. So it wasn't the best plan, and it left him with a possibility of being mauled to death. Things could have been much worse in his opinion, given their circumstances anyway. He just needed this bracelet.

"Very well, I'm trusting you." Blake answered.

She released a longwinded sigh and hopped down into the brush, stealthily moving into the middle with limited noise. Blake closed her eyes and sprinted into the rotunda, waking the Grimm instantly with her loud footfalls. She left a trio of dark clones that resembled rock-like statues at different points in the area and jumped into the tree before the Ursa could make sense of what happened. The fragments that she left behind started to crumble into tiny pieces as the seconds passed. Jaune slid down the hill and picked up a few rocks, tossing them at the Beowolf's in a similar vein to what he did back in the clearing.

"Over you here you idiots!" he shouted.

The growls reverberated throughout the forest as the group of Grimm focused their beady red eyes onto him. Saliva dripped from their sharpened fangs into the grass as the sun glistened against their dark fur. Goosebumps trailed across his left arm, a sensation of fear running though his spine as he realized how terrifying the creatures were up close. The Ursa across the forest rose from its temporary throne and marched slowly across the muddied ground. The Ursa's roar made him shiver as it knocked a boulder in the field out of its path. He raised Crocea Mors and braced for the first attack, sweat pouring down his neck as he panted in anticipation for it to move.

A Beowolf on the right lunged at Jaune with its claws forward, swiping at his abdomen. He lifted his shield and blocked the attack, thrusting Crocea Mors into its neck. Jaune let out a rasp and prepared for the next one, looking on in dread as the Grimm reorganized. They were usually so mindless, but the Ursa was leading them, strengthening their ranks somehow. As another Beowolf launched forward, he jumped back and avoided the strike, lopping off its head with the blade. Jaune looked up to see Blake wrapping the ribbon around the trunk of the oak tree in one fluid motion.

 _Anytime Blake,_ Jaune muttered in his thoughts.

Leaves spilled onto the ground as Blake propelled herself forward with her ribbon, leveling Gambol Shroud's blade at the Ursa's neck. In one seamless gesture, Blake sliced the Ursa's head off, the decapitated part rolling onto the mud leaving a pool of blood in its trail. The Grimm's body slammed onto the ground, shooting up dirt onto Blake's leggings. The rest of the body evaporated, leaving only a dent in the mud where the creature fell. His plan had worked, but that didn't assuage the Beowolf's rushing at him. Blake was left with no time to act as one of the Grimm tackled him.

"Jaune!" Blake shouted in fear as she cut down a Beowulf.

In a gut reaction, Jaune threw his right arm forward before the Beowolf ripped his chest open. The Grimm's sharp fangs latched onto his metal prosthetic, breaking its teeth instantly. It howled in pain and threw him to the side of the forest, releasing a guttural chuff. He rolled onto his back and lifted up his arm, the sleeve of the hoodie he was wearing partially ripped. Jaune ignored the other Beowulf that escaped from Blake's slaughter, and tore a bottom piece of the fabric to wrap it around his arm and conceal the metal. Yet it was a fatal mistake as he looked up to see three of the Grimm pounce from above, claws raised ready to eviscerate his body.

"Move you imbecile!" a shrill voice yelled in anger.

By command, Jaune scooted backwards and watched as a wall of ice sprouted from the ground, impaling the Beowolf's into the air like skewered meat. He looked behind in relieved shock to see Weiss Schnee, pointing her rapier with a glyph formation surrounding the tip of the blade. Against the rays of the sun that trickled through the forest, the light wrapped itself around her frame, giving her the appearance of an angel.

She dropped from the boulders she was standing on and approached him, extending her soft hand for him to reach; her fingers were delicate and pampered. Jaune hoisted himself up and sheathed Crocea Mors, finding that all of the Beowolf had scattered.

"T-thank you Weiss, you saved my life." she released a huff.

"How could you be so careless in the middle of battle? Your aura would have taken care of the wound." Weiss haughtily explained.

"I know... sorry." he mumbled in response. She was right however, the fear of being exposed took over his survival instincts. Another mistake like that could cost him more than an arm and leg.

"Jaune, I must admit, that was clever," Blake interjected with a smile. "The fulcrum of the trunk was more than enough force, but how did you know it could handle my weight?" He didn't, to be honest.

"A lucky guess, that and I saw you use it earlier." Weiss looked appalled that he would rely on a simple chance of luck to determine their plans.

"So now we have a bracelet correct?" Weiss asked, pointing to the ring in Blake's hand. It was gold in color, and on one end was a circular device that blinked a red light every few seconds; probably a transponder.

Blake nodded, examining the device in her hand keenly. "Appears so, but we still have to find another member for the team." This was going a lot easier then he originally expected, because once they found someone else to be on their team, they could head back to the cliffs. But who would they consider... Ruby maybe?

"I suggest we find Pyrrha," Weiss voiced, "She's one of the strongest initiates in the test—with her, clearing these forests would be child's play." She was right about that but his introduction to the family idol was off-putting to say the least, the awkward smile she flashed still burned into his recent memories.

"And who put you in charge?" Blake shot back, narrowing her amber eyes at Weiss. The heiress scoffed, folding her arms in defiance.

"I don't see you making any suggestions?"

"We should at least hear Jaune's opinion," Blake said.

"He would agree with me obviously." Weiss retorted.

Jaune sat down on one of the overturned logs in the clearing and sighed, running his calloused hands through his messy blonde locks. This was a like a fight between two of his younger sisters over a new toy.

What did he get himself into?

* * *

Of all the people that could join them in the forest, it had to be a Schnee. Blake was very aware of who the heiress was when she appeared, her recognizable snow-colored hair tied back into a tilted ponytail. Anyone who was a Faunus or owned a television knew who the girl was; once famed for her orchestral singing career that took Remnant by storm. The White Fang was created in-part in response to the Schnee Dust Company's controversial labor laws and working conditions.

Essentially they were at war with the company and Atlas, only spreading their influence and tactics across the kingdoms in later years.

The gall that she could just mosey up here and start commanding them twisted her stomach. Blake would not deny that she helped save Jaune from the Beowolf's, but that didn't mean she had the right to dictate their every action. She looked over at Jaune who retreated to the corner away from Weiss' rants like a scolded puppy. He fought well, at least for an amateur, and his tactical thinking was unorthodox. But she could tell he was a decent person at heart, only trying to make the best of the situation. The way he reacted though, it was strange to see someone panic over something besides the Grimm. And that metal sound her ears kept picking up distressed her.

Blake dropped the argument, and walked over to Jaune, tapping him on the shoulder. He raised his head and blinked, His ocean blue eyes filled with uneasiness. "What do you think we should do?" she asked.

"Let's just find our way back to the cliffs, it's our best chance to find someone without a team. The headmaster said that teams of up to eight could form in the forest, so if we come across Pyrrha or Ruby, we'll figure out what to do." There was a problem with that logic-in his explanation for the rules, he said individual bracelets could only be claimed by a team of four. If Pyrrha or Weiss wanted to try and steal it, they were given that option.

"That's idiotic." Weiss stated.

"Whys that?" Jaune hesitated to ask under her frightful glare. By now she would have appreciated the company of Yang; at least she could tell a joke now and then.

"Think about it," she began, "There could be teams waiting by the cliffs for others with bracelets. Headmaster Ozpin said teams were allowed to fight over them, remember?" Now that Blake thought about it, Weiss actually made sense. Who knows how many students could be lying in wait.

"Then what do you recommend?" Blake wryly asked.

Weiss' untimely explanation was cut short as an explosion ignited to the left of the forest. A large plume of smoke and fire flew into the sky, sprinkling mud and dust onto the trees below it. Blake stared wide-eyed at the trail of soot, confused as to who would cause such wanton commotion. Did they not know how many Grimm that would attract? She looked on as Jaune sprang to his feet, gloved hand clutching the hilt of his blade as sweat poured down his brow. Like a switch, his placid expression was replaced by a stern gaze, the shy boy from before gone in place of a taciturn leader.

They sprinted into the forest and headed to where the blast originated. Without knowing who would be there it would be a gamble to investigate, especially if the explosion was set off to be a trap. She didn't hear the stampede of Grimm that she expected, only the crackling of the flames that began to spread through the forest. She passed through the wall of smoke and held her breath, keeping her eyes on Jaune's back. On the other side, was a vast field brimming with crumbling temples from hundreds of years ago, untouched by nature's clutches. An old rotted well sat to the side by an overturned wagon surrounded by bales of hay; it was all very picturesque.

"Have another you beast!" an excited voice screamed in glee.

From the brush, an orange-haired girl unleashed a volley of grenade rounds at a large boulder that fell from the sky in the middle of the field. A pink mist followed each round after impact, somewhat reminiscent of the fireworks Blake saw the night before the Valentine's Day festival. The debris that crashed into the ground bore a strange white mask with cracks on the side, and in the middle a glowing yellow eye. An ethereal-like creature rose from the scattered rocks, contracting its individual claws as it scanned the area.

Her mouth remained open in both awe and horror, taken back by the higher class Grimm that hovered in the field. A Geist, was one of many possession-type Grimm, but far more powerful when it has taken control over inanimate objects. Alone they weren't very powerful, but they were trickier and far smarter then lesser Grimm like Beowolfs. Around its right arm was one of the bracelets supposed to be on the Ursai in the forest. How did such a powerful Grimm enter through the barricades the staff placed?

She was given little time to think it over.

The Geist flew forward away from the girl and snatched the bracelet from her hand, leaving mild scratch marks on her left arm. She was so careless to let the bracelet get stolen like that, and now it roamed across the field looking for a suitable object to possess. She pushed past Jaune and chased after the Grimm, shooting her pistol at the Geist as it dodged the bullets effortlessly.

"Don't let it escape!" Weiss angrily cried out. She formed a glyph beneath her feet and shot into the sky after the Geist, flinging another attack in its direction, only for the creature to dive into the field.

"Guess it stole yours too huh?" the ginger-haired girl giggled, saddling besides them. Her grenade launcher transformed into a giant hammer that exhibited electricity at the face. Blake couldn't discern why she was so giddy about their current situation.

"Nora, where are you?" a reserved masculine voice said from the forest. Coming out of the forest in a hurry, a young male with short black hair emerged covered in dirt and twigs. Behind him was Pyrrha Nikos who shook her ponytail of the leaves that stuck to her. She didn't recognize the boy, and the only thing that made him stand out was the pink stripe on one of his locks. The girl known as Nora, bounced over to him with a bright smile, unloading dozens of questions onto him at once.

The Geist interrupted the potential reunion with a piercing screech that almost ruptured her eardrums. The Grimm spread its arms out, and the ground began to shake, pieces of the ruins that were scattered across the field rising into the air towards it. The broken remnants were stacked against each other, morphing into a humanoid figure that towered over them. Pillars and buttresses broke apart to create limbs, while arches and lintels gave shape to complete its desired body. At the center of the neck, was the Grimm's mask, the lone eye of the Geist darting back and forth in rage.

Blake jumped back as the hunkering monstrosity slammed its right arm down, the impact crushing anything in its path and conjuring a forceful gust of air. Jaune lied on the ground with a mouthful of dirt, climbing back onto his feet as the Geist prepared another attack. Did the six of them even have enough firepower to destroy it? Its movements were slow, but the strength behind it could knock away they're aura and more with one hit. Weiss touched the grass with the tip of her rapier, creating several glyphs under each of their feet.

"These will make you faster!" Weiss shouted.

She looked over at Pyrrha and took the opportunity to attack. The Geist again slammed both makeshift arms onto the ground, allowing them all a window of opportunity. Blake ran up the creatures left arm, noting the blocks of concrete and rotted wood that made up its structure. Pyrrha was on the other side following her queue, and they launched into simultaneous attacks on the Geist, hitting it with every move she had. Pyrrha struck her sword onto the area near its face, only for sparks to fly, the damage not enough to pierce through. She fired a couple of rounds at the mask, only for the Grimm to block them, shrugging her off like an annoying fly.

"That armor is too tough," Pyrrha said through a pant. She was right, the combination of rock and solid marble created an almost impenetrable shield.

"I'll cover you Ren!" Nora merrily sang, shifting her weapon back into its grenade launcher form.

Weiss rushed forward with Ren, swiping at the legs of the Grimm as Nora shot off a series of rounds. The grenades exploded against its chest, the pink mist spreading across the field. Blake wrapped Gambol Shroud's ribbon on a piece of rebar that stuck out from its massive leg and used it to climb up onto the Geist's shoulder. Down below, Jaune tried swing his weapon at its makeshift feet, the blade only flinging backwards in a vain effort. Not even the combined Crocea Mors would crack it.

"It's too tough!"

The mask was exposed as it tried to smash everyone below, the Grimm's movements throwing Blake off balance as she gripped an opening in the rocks. She clenched the hilt of Gambol Shroud and let go, sliding across the marble near the face. Blake pulled back her weapon and thrust her sword at the Geist's mask, only for the blade to miss its mark. It shook its body and threw her off toward the trees.

They're teamwork was too disarrayed, with everyone focused on attacking the core body. Nora's grenades while powerful, weren't strong enough on their own. She pursed her lips and slammed her fist against the trunk, frustrated by the lack of progress. They were losing precious time.

"This is pointless, we need a plan!" Blake yelled.

Jaune rolled to the right, avoiding the Geist as it stomped on the ground, leaving a wide indentation in its place. Mud sprayed onto his armor and he slipped, falling to his knees with a strained grunt. Blake ran over and helped him up, observing the pointless strikes on the Grimm from the others. The sound of metal colliding with rock echoed in her ears, and she looked over at Jaune for any ideas on what to do. Right now they were all running around like scattered mice in the basement.

A whirlwind of rose petals swept in the forest and encircled the Grimm's right arm, a ball of red unleashing a flurry of slashes. Parts of its hand crumbled, and the Geist let out a wail in fury, its exposed black claw summoning more rocks to replace its hand. Ruby skidded on the dirt and fired Crescent Rose with Yang following through with a series of punches, only for the bullets to deflect off the face. Blake admitted that seeing the two sisters was comforting, the extra help always welcomed against something so powerful.

"Hope we made it in time!" Yang cried out with a grunt, firing her gauntlets.

"I thought the bracelets were on Ursa?" Ruby asked in confusion as she unloaded sniper rounds towards the center of the Grimm.

"Guys, I have a plan," Jaune stated, eyes wide as if a lightbulb appeared over his head. She was wary, but his plan back at the pack of Beowolfs did work.

"Ruby," Jaune shouted, "I need you and Weiss to attack the legs, have her freeze them in place while you chip away at the upper thighs. And Blake, work with Pyrrha and make your way back onto its shoulders." Ruby nodded, not even questioning the orders as she flew over to Weiss to explain the plan.

"What about me?" Yang questioned.

"You and Nora are the lynchpin, you both have the strongest attacks, so I'm going to make an opening for you two to destroy the mask." Yang chuckled, clasping her fist with an enthusiastic grin.

"Better hope this works blondie."

As Jaune instructed, Weiss created a glyph under the Geist, freezing the Grimm in place. The ice rose from the ground and crawled up its legs, while Ruby used her semblance to dislodge pieces of the ruins that made up its upper legs. Pyrrha grabbed her shield and threw her onto one of the flailing arms. Blake used the ribbon of Gambol Shroud to pull up Pyrrha, throwing her onto the left arm of the Geist.

She detached the katana from its sheath and put pressure on its arms, preoccupying the Geist away from Jaune and the others. Ren left up to his own devices, climbed onto the back of the Grimm and shot his submachineguns at the exposed neck.

Nora's weapon shifted into its hammer form and used the electricity at the tip to shoot herself above the Geist, all but ignoring Jaune's plan. He used Crocea Mors to latch onto the legs with Yang behind him, climbing slowly upwards as he tried his best not to fall off. Nora landed on top of the Grimm's head, laughing in silly bouts as she literally hammered its skull. With the distraction, Yang jumped off of Jaune's back and punched the mask, unleashing a volley of hardened punches at an unstoppable speed. By the time she was finished, the Geist remained still, its gigantic body falling backwards into thousands of pieces of debris. The plan worked.

She caught the ghostly form of the Geist sneaking away-it only got two feet before she decapitated its head, the bracelets falling onto the ground. Blake didn't know how it worked, but Jaune's brilliant strategy succeeded, proving that he wasn't just relying on luck back when he improvised against the Ursa. She looked over to see him bent over with labored breathing, supporting his weight with the sword.

"Damn Jaune, I can't believe it worked!" Yang complimented, smacking him on the back.

"I... just thought overwhelming it would give us enough time to attack the mask." Jaune answered in-between pants. Regardless, it was sound planning.

"Enough banter, lets hurry back to the cliffs." Weiss complained, picking up one of the bracelets and securing it to her waist.

"Well, I thought that was amazing Jaune," Ruby said, "It was so cool how you barked orders at us like a commander!" he released a light chuckle and rubbed the back of his neck. Ruby wasn't the only one who took notice of how quickly Jaune took charge. He became so competent, his blue eyes sharpened in contrast to his usual goofy smile.

"Ruby's right, you should be proud." Ren added.

At least the initiation was finished.

* * *

Jaune squeezed his mechanical fingers together to create a fist. The action caused him to flinch, and a sharp pain rose in his right shoulder. Since the end of the initiation, he was suffering from a reoccurring ache in his limbs whenever the joints were moved. The doctors said he would experience normal episodes of burning pain throughout his body if he strained the muscles. The more his limbs endured strenuous activity, the easier it would be to adjust in battle. Jaune was thankful that no one noticed during team assignments in the assembly; it took a lot to stand up there next to the podium.

Between rough pants, he steadied himself in the dorm hallways. The distance to his room seemed much farther then he originally remembered. While it was still early in the afternoon, Jaune decided to catch some extra hours of sleep until dinner. His body was exhausted, and he needed time to accept the headmaster's decision. When Ozpin declared him leader of team AWBN (Auburn), he was shocked, and not just because Blake and Weiss would be on his team. He thought himself as a follower, not someone who could take charge and lead his friends into victory. Sure he came up with some strategies during the test, but wouldn't anyone if their life was at stake?

He almost stumbled, clasping his left knee in a fierce grunt. "Jaune, are you okay?" Glynda's concerned voice called out. She rushed over and helped him up, letting him lean on her shoulder for support.

"Thank you, Professor Goodwitch." He mumbled in embarrassment. The thought of one of his teammates seeing him like this frightened him.

Professor Goodwitch escorted him back the rest of the way to his dorm, taking careful steps. She avoided placing unnecessary tension on his limbs, and opened the door to his room. Jaune rested on the wall next to his room and waited for the professor to roll the wheelchair outside. Jaune's back relaxed into the chair, letting the professor push him to the side of his bed. He forced himself up and lied down on the sheets, his left hand tracing the fabric. Jaune turned away from Goodwitch's stare because of his helplessness. It didn't matter if she already knew about his disability.

"Jaune," Glynda whispered, "You should have informed the staff if you were in pain. I would have gladly assisted." He removed the first prosthetic that acted as his right arm and winced.

"I didn't want to bother anyone." He answered, placing the mechanical limbs onto the floor, ignoring the sensation following the removal of the prosthetics.

"Nonsense, we're always willing to help Jaune-you don't have to be ashamed to ask." He nodded, not wanting to argue with his caretaker. The professor was only trying her best to take care of him.

"Was there anything else Professor Goodwitch?"

She paused and adjusted her glasses. "You did very well today Jaune, you should be proud. I know being a team leader can be intimidating, but remember that this designation wasn't assigned without merit." He still found it hard to believe... how was he supposed to lead a team?

"Thank you, though I'm not sure I'm ready." Glynda placed her hand on his shoulder with a reaffirming smile. Jaune found the warmth welcoming, the comfort evocative of what his Mother used to do.

"Jaune, there is something else I must tell you," Glynda said, her voice taking on a somber tone. "You're aware that you are unable to board with the rest of your team correct?" Oh he was aware, considering it was one of the more upsetting conditions of his stay at Beacon. Jaune wanted to be treated normal and not isolated from everyone.

"Neither I nor Headmaster Ozpin do not wish to upset you, but your team will have to be informed of your residence." Jaune's eyes drifted shut. The reason made sense, there would be too many questions to answer, so it was better to let them know before school officially started.

"I understand... but can you not tell them why, just that I'm sick?" They didn't have to know the specifics, just that he had a disability and wasn't comfortable talking about it.

"Of course, I'll leave it up to you when to divulge such information–again I apologize Jaune. I know you wish to be seen as a normal student, and I will do everything in my power to fulfill that." His face brightened at those words, knowing there was a glimmer of hope to be a regular person.

"I'll leave you for now, get some rest Jaune." Glynda shut the door behind her, clicking the lock into place. He grabbed the covers of his bed and lied back, staring up at the ceiling with a placated expression.

Initiation for all it was clouted to be, wasn't the true test in his eyes-it was being normal in a school full of gifted individuals.

* * *

 **One immediate difference in the rewrite people will notice is that Jaune's weapon is back to normal, well in the sense that it's not also a gun. I have tweaked canon here and made Crocea Mors the version it is currently in RWBY volume 4 and 5.**


End file.
